ZALE’S POV;
The food arrived within minutes, the clatter of plates and utensils snapping me out of my thoughts. "Alpha," the maids said in unison, bowing as they entered the room. They moved swiftly, setting the table with practiced grace, not a single motion wasted. Normally, they would remain to serve the entire meal, standing nearby in case anything was needed. That’s how it had always been—order, routine, control. But today, I sensed something different.
Amora.
She was sitting across from me, her eyes downcast, her body tense. The maids' presence seemed to agitate her, heightening the discomfort she was trying hard to mask. She was still adjusting to everything, and I needed her to be at ease here. She would get used to it in time—eventually, she would have to. But not now.
"You ca
